


Snakes Don't Belong in Kitchens

by sohmsohm



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A tiny bit of Bokuaka and Kuroken if you don't blink, Canon Compliant, Comedy, Cooking, Daishou and Kuroo are together of course there's going to be swearing, Daishou and Kuroo schenganians, Daishou is a wholesome boyfriend, Dates, Domestic, Established DaiMika, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Food, Humor, Lighthearted, Manga Spoilers, Post-Timeskip, Swearing, Timeskip Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26457292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohmsohm/pseuds/sohmsohm
Summary: Daishou had the perfect plan: he asks Mika what she wants for dinner, he cooks the food she told him she wanted, Mika comes home from a long day of her classes, and there Daishou is with a surprise homemade meal he prepared just for her.Too bad Daishou didn’t consider the fact that he can't cook to save his life.But, fortunately (or unfortunately) for him, help can come from the most unlikely places—even from a rooster-hair bastard and a sleep-deprived manga editor.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Kuroo Tetsurou, Daishou Suguru & Kuroo Tetsurou, Daishou Suguru/Yamaka Mika
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	Snakes Don't Belong in Kitchens

**Author's Note:**

> I love Daishou and Mika’s relationship so much; they are so cute together in the manga when they’re narrating the matches! After reading all the DaiMika themed Haikyuubu chapters and listening to the Tokyo no Jin soundtrack on repeat, I felt like it was finally time to write something about them. Also, since it was revealed in the last chapter that Mika became a nurse, I feel like Daishou would totally try and comfort her while she is busy studying her butt off in nursing school. Anyways, I digress. As always, thank you for reading!

Daishou was losing his cool. 

Usually, he would be able to keep himself calm and composed. Hiding behind his mask of collectivism and pleasantries, while also being able to bend the atmosphere of the situation to his will, was one of the very things he was known (and mocked) for whenever he stepped onto the court. There were only a handful of people that had the ability to strip down the precious facade he built up over the past couple years. 

The first were his old Nohebi teammates; with all the time they spent on the court together, it was almost impossible to get anything past them. They seemed to make mocking him a daily routine, whether it was privately over text or publicly in a post on Instagram or Twitter. However, Daishou would always find some embarrassing photos of his friends to post in order to extract revenge. But, no matter how rude or nasty their comments seemed, all of them knew it was all in good fun. 

The second was that fucking rooster-hair bastard Kuroo Tetsurou; Daishou was almost certain that asshole purposefully went out of the way to piss him off. Kuroo’s taunts and irritating attitude only got worse ever since he scored that job with the JVA in the Sports Promotion division. It pained Daishou to admit that he got it good—Kuroo became the very definition of making it rich quickly. One day when Daishou came back home to the apartment after practice, he received an envelope from the jerk that contained his fancy business card with a note on the back that read, “It’s there if you need help.” At the end of the short message was a badly drawn winky face. With a scowl etched upon his face, Daishou promptly crumpled up the business card and angrily threw it on his desk. 

The third was, of course, Yamaka Mika; no matter how hard he tried to hide his bad habits or flaws around her, Mika always saw right through him. Her sheer presence made him lose all ability to use common sense—when Mika was around, the only thing that mattered to Daishou was making sure she was happy. After all, Mika held the power to lift his spirits and make him grin wide like a lovestruck idiot just by breathing. The day that she suggested that they should get an apartment together was one of the greatest days of his life. Her passion and dedication for everything she did made Daishou breathless, like when he spiked the ball into the opponent’s court at the end of a long rally.

Daishou groaned in frustration as he stared down at the frying pan in front of him. Tonight, the reason he was losing his cool was, unsurprisingly, because of Yamaka Mika. 

He clicked on the overhead fan above the stove in an attempt to clear the burning smell from the air. Mika was scheduled to come back to the apartment in less than two hours from her classes. When Daishou texted her what she wanted to eat for dinner, she said that she was craving a beef bowl and some grilled salmon onigiri. So, Daishou took it upon himself to try and surprise Mika by making homemade beef bowls and grilled salmon onigiris for the two of them himself.

It was now apparent that he should’ve spent less time learning volleyball tactics and put in more effort into studying culinary techniques. 

Carrying a cutting board with some pieces of overly charred beef, Daishou trudged to the trash bin and threw away the failures he made at the stove. The trash bin, which he just emptied out yesterday, was now filled to the brim with all the food he was forced to throw away. If Mika put any of those atrocities in her mouth, the next thing she would find herself doing was getting admitted into a hospital. Considering that Mika already spent most of her days working in the hospital hallways as an intern for the nursing staff, Daishou thought it best to avoid as many trips there as possible. 

“How is it even possible for something to be burned _and_ raw at the same time?” he asked to no one in particular. Deeply exhaling, Daishou ran a hand through his hair as he checked his phone. 

_New Text Messages!_

[Daishou S.]: Hey, can you guys help me? I sort of fucked up while making Mika-chan some dinner and now I don’t know what to do. Do any of you know how to cook? I sent you guys a picture of what I had so far.

[Hiroo K.]: Whoa there… This isn’t “sort of” fucking up, this is ~really~ fucking up. How do you mess up that bad?

[Sakishima I.]: The hell? This is just you humble bragging again, isn’t it? Stop rubbing salt in the wound about how you have a girlfriend. It hurts man...

[Daishou S.]: How is this humble bragging?! I seriously need help here!

[Takachiho Y.]: Why don’t you just order takeout?

[Daishou S.]: We’ve been having takeout for the past couple days, I wanted to try making her something at home.

[Numai K.]: Well, then you’re screwed. 

[Daishou S.]: I appreciate it guys. 

[Hiroo K.]: Come on dude, did you seriously text here expecting us to give you sound cooking advice?

[Daishou S.]: You’re right, thanks anyways.

Daishou huffed as he clicked off his phone. Turning his head, his eyes fell upon the numerous recipe sheets he printed off the internet. He swiftly crumpled them up; they were no help to him now. 

He threw the wadded ball of useless recipes onto his desk. As he did, a smaller, crumpled piece of paper on the same desk caught his attention. Curious, he made his way towards it and opened up the small scrap of paper. In an instant, the contents of the paper made him cringe. Just as he was about to throw away the small piece of paper, a fleeting thought crossed his mind: _Maybe this would help…_

No. He couldn’t. Daishou refused to let himself sink to such depths. He checked his phone and saw the time—he now had less than an hour and a half left until Mika would come home. It pained Daishou to admit it, but he was running out of options; with his lack of culinary experience, he didn’t have time to redo the dishes he messed up. 

“I guess I have no choice...” he mumbled to himself. Hesitantly, he dialed the number he found on the smaller piece of paper. 

_For Mika-chan,_ Daishou resolved. He pressed the call button on his phone. 

  
  


* * *

“You know, when I gave you my card and said that you could call the number if you needed help, this was not the type of help I was expecting.”

Kuroo gave Daishou a smug look before continuing. “But, it’s all the same to me, so it’s alright.”

“You see that elevator you just took to get up here? Click the inverted triangle button next to it, wait for the door to open, step inside, and never come back. Besides, did you have to wear that gaudy suit when you came here anyways? Are you trying to gloat or something?” 

“Hey, for your information, I was wearing this suit earlier. You know, when _you_ called _me,_ ” Kuroo said, leaning against the doorframe of the door to the entrance of the apartment. “Now, could you please let me in? We’re running out of time, Mika-chan is supposed to come back soon.”

Daishou glared at him once more before stepping aside to let Kuroo in. Surprisingly, a man a little bit shorter than Kuroo followed behind him into the apartment. The mysterious man had ruffled black hair and wore glasses. However, the glasses failed to cover the dark rings under his eyes—he looked like he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks. The cardigan he was wearing was starting to fall off his shoulder on one side, but the man didn’t bother to fix it. 

As they both took off their shoes, Daishou looked towards the familiar man. “Hey Kuroo,” Daishou said, motioning towards the stranger. “Who is this?”

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Kuroo said. “That’s my friend, Akaashi Keiji.”

“Nice to meet you, Daishou-san,” Akaashi said, bowing towards him.

“Uh… likewise,” Daishou said. He stared at the man for just a little bit longer, a hint of recognition illuminating his eyes. “Wait, Akaashi Keiji? You used to set for Fukurodani, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Akaashi replied, fiddling with his fingers. “But, I don’t play volleyball anymore.”

“Ah, I see,” Daishou said, nodding with understanding. “Listen, not to be rude, but why are you here?”

“I’m here to make the beef bowls and grilled salmon onigiri for your dinner date with Yamaka-san,” Akaashi responded. He glanced towards the kitchen, scrunching his nose at the mess. “Do you mind if I use your kitchen?”

“Hold on just a second,” Daishou said as he turned towards Kuroo. “What the hell, Kuroo? I thought you said you were going to help me cook?”

“I never said anything about doing the cooking myself,” Kuroo said. He took a seat on the couch and relaxed his body into the cushions. “Come on, you think _I_ know how to cook?”

“The door is right over there. Go open it, walk out, and never return back here again.”

“Ah come on, I’m helping, aren’t I?” 

“ _You_ aren’t helping. _Akaashi_ is the one that’s going to be doing all the work,” Daishou said, sighing. “Now I feel bad ‘cause some guy I barely know is cooking for me and Mika-chan.”

“It’s fine, I had nothing to do,” Akaashi said as he opened the fridge to pick out the ingredients he needed. “Bokuto-san had to cancel on me tonight because his practice was running long, as per usual. So, now I’m free.”

“Aw, don’t look so sad about it. You know Bo can’t control it,” Kuroo called out to his friend. 

“I know, don’t worry, I’m not upset about it,” Akaashi said. Now, he was standing over Daishou’s kitchen counter, skillfully cutting up all the produce he needed for the meal. “Besides, I wanted to practice some cooking anyway.”

“See, he wants to help,” Kuroo defended himself. “When you called me, I was already hanging out with Akaashi. When I told him about your problem, he said he wouldn’t mind helping. It would’ve been weird if he just strolled up to your apartment by himself because you don’t know him personally, so I tagged along.”

Daishou rolled his eyes. “And now you are taking up space on my couch, like a useless piece of shit.”

“Hey, networking is still work! Without me, you wouldn’t have Akaashi toiling away in your kitchen over there,” Kuroo said. “By the way, did you know that Akaashi went to one of those ‘Learn how to make onigiri with me!’ group cooking sessions hosted by Miya Osamu from Onigiri Miya? He’s learned cooking from one of the best, so this dish will turn out better than… Whatever you were trying to make over there...”

Daishou let that last annoying comment slide, only because it was true. He looked over at Akaashi working in the kitchen; Akaashi was getting ready to start prepping the rice. 

“Hey, if there’s anything you need in there, just give me a shout,” Daishou said. “Oh, and thanks for helping me out Akaashi, you’re really saving my skin here. If there’s any favors I can do for you, let me know.”

Akaashi turned on the faucet at the sink to measure out some water, not even turning to look at Daishou. “Just pick up the newest issue of _Zombish_ next time you go to a bookstore,” Akaashi said. He turned off the faucet, satisfied with the amount of water in the measuring cup. “That’s the series I’m editing right now at my job. It’s still pretty new, but I’m still really happy with the results as of right now.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Daishou said. 

Akaashi nodded and got back to work. Even though he couldn’t see exactly what Akaashi was doing, Daishou could already tell it was radically different compared to what he did in the kitchen an hour prior. Maybe that was a good thing. Deciding it would be best not to interfere with Akaashi’s efforts, he went to go check up on the other person in his apartment. Over by a small table in the living room, Daishou caught Kuroo looking at the tank where he and Mika kept their pet snake. 

“Awww,” Kuroo said, pointing at the serpent. “He looks like you.”

Daishou kicked Kuroo in the back of his knees. 

“Ow, ow!” Kuroo cried out, massaging the place where Daishou hit him. 

Daishou glared at him. “You deserved that.”

“See, there it is! That stare—it’s the same as the snake!” 

“I will kick you again.”

“Damn, is this how you treat the guests that come into your home?”

“Only annoying bastards like you with stupid hairstyles.”  
  


“Just so you know, this hair is _natural_ ,” Kuroo said, pointing at his head. “Trust me, I’ve tried to fix it. Kenma even bought me all those crazy expensive hair products you see in the high end stores. They don’t work!”

“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Daishou said as he pulled out his phone. The time he saw reflected on the screen made his heart drop.

“Hey, how much time until Mika-chan is supposed to come back?” Kuroo asked. Although most of the words he and Kuroo had exchanged with each other were full of sarcasm and taunts, Daishou could tell from his question that Kuroo was legitimately worried for him. 

“About a half an hour,” Daishou said, his voice laced with unease. 

Kuroo’s expression softened. He gave Daishou a pat on the back. “Hey, it'll be fine, alright? I trust Akaashi to get it done well. Mika-chan’s gonna love it.” 

At the mention of Akaashi’s name, Daishou turned his head towards the kitchen where Akaashi was cooking the food. At this point, Daishou’s pride was long gone—he knew that Akaashi was making a meal that would be ten, no, a hundred times better than what he was stewing up earlier. Daishou knew Mika was going to love the food that Akaashi was preparing. If Mika was happy, he was happy too; that was all that really mattered. Yet, Daishou couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied with himself. A small part of him wished that _he_ could’ve been the one to make the meal for Mika, that _he_ had the skills to pull it off. 

Daishou let out a sigh. It was days like these that made him realize Mika was too good for him. “I hope so.” 

* * *

“Crap! Her train just dropped her off!” Daishou warned the man in the kitchen. “You have five minutes, Akaashi!”

“Am I on _Chopped_ or something?” Akaashi questioned him, never taking his eyes off the dish in front of him. He was carefully arranging the grilled salmon onigiri he just finished preparing on the plate. “Relax, Daishou-san. After I’m done here, all I have to do is garnish the beef bowls.”

“Keep talking using those fancy cooking words like that and you actually might end up on one of those cooking shows like _Chopped_ , Akaashi,” Kuroo called out to him. 

“Do you mean the word ‘garnish,’ Kuroo-san? Come on, everyone uses that word when they’re cooking nowadays.”

“I think you’ve been spending too much time watching Miya Osamu’s tutorials.”

While Akaashi was busy plating the dishes he made, Daishou was tidying up the clothes he was wearing. He brushed off his shirt and pants, then turned towards Kuroo. “How do I look?” Daishou asked him.

“Good—wait, hold on, there’s something…” Kuroo said, spitting into his hand. Then, Kuroo took the hand he spat on and used it to fix the loose strands in Daishou’s hair

Daishou’s face crinkled up. “Disgusting.”

“I saw what hair products you use when I went to go use your bathroom,” Kuroo said. “Trust me, the spit in my hand works just as well as those cheap products you keep in there.”

“They work just fine!”

“I’ll send over some of the hair products that Kenma bought for me.”

“I don’t want your leftovers!”

“Alright, it’s finished,” Akaashi called out to them. “Please, let me know what you think.”

The sweet smell of beef and salmon led Daishou to the kitchen. It was the pickled ginger that caught his attention first—strands of the pink root were neatly placed on top of the beef bowls that sat nicely on the counter. The juices from the beef made the whole bowl glisten, like it was a part of an advertisement. Sitting next to the two beautiful beef bowls were Akaashi’s handmade onigiri. Although, if he didn’t see Akaashi shape the triangles right in front of him, Daishou would’ve thought that the onigiri were crafted by two robot arms in a factory; they were _that_ perfect. Every single piece of food that Akaashi made was immaculate. 

Daishou wasn’t sure if he was happy or slightly pissed off at that fact. 

“Akaashi, you said you were a manga editor right?” Daishou asked him. It took all of his willpower to not just start eating the plates of food right then and there. “You sure you aren't a chef?”

Akaashi bowed politely towards Daishou. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

“She’s gonna love them. I can already tell,” Kuroo said, patting Akaashi on the back. 

“Yes, thank you very much,” Daishou told Akaashi. “I really appreciate this, you saved my ass.”

“It was no problem,” Akaashi said as he pulled out his phone. “By the way Kuroo-san, I just sent you the recipes I like to use as reference when making these. Can you do me a favor and send them to Daishou-san?”

“Can do,” Kuroo replied. 

_Click!_

“Shit! The door!” Daishou cried out. “How am I going to explain why you guys are here?”

Kuroo gave a quick glance to his surroundings. “Akaashi, let’s have you and me hide in the pantry. Daishou, get Mika-chan to use the bathroom or something for a couple minutes—just enough time to have Akaashi and I sneak out.”

“What?” Akaashi asked, his obvious bewilderment present on his face. “Why do we have to hide from Yamaka-san?” 

“We gotta save whatever skin Daishou has left,” Kuroo said, pushing Akaashi towards the pantry door despite the other man’s protests. Kuroo looked at Daishou before saying, “It’s all up to you, good luck man.” 

“Kuroo, I swear to—”

_Click!_

“Suguru, I’m home.” 

Daishou turned towards the source of the sound to see Mika standing at the front door. 

“Mika-chan! Welcome back!” he said to her, giving her a hug. 

“Hey…” Mika said, her voice trailing off.

Worried, Daishou let go and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Sighing, she shook her head. “Long day, I’m really tired,” she said. “Listen, I love that you’re concerned for me, but could you let me take off my shoes first?” 

“Oh, oh! Of course!” Daishou said, stepping out of the way to let Mika into their apartment. He took a glance towards the ground, his eyes catching the sight of two pairs of shoes… that were not his.

_Kuroo and Akaashi._

His heart skipped a beat, but he had no time to be scared. Daishou quickly kicked the pair of gaudy dress shoes and plain sneakers away from Mika’s field of vision. 

“Huh? Something wrong?” Mika asked.

“No! I-It’s nothing!” Daishou said, stuttering. 

Mika narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. “Are you sure?” she said, her voice laced with concern.

Daishou inhaled sharply. If there was one thing Daishou was sure of, it was that he would never be able to get anything past Mika for as long as he lived. “I was worried before, but you’re here now and the problem has been fixed,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m okay now, I promise. Now, can you tell me about what happened to you today?”

Mika gave him a tired smile. “Alright,” she said, taking off her shoes. “This lab we had to do today was intense. We had to dissect a cadaver and—wait, do you smell that?”

“Smell what?”

Mika made her way towards the kitchen. “It smells like… beef bowls and grilled salmon onigiri?!” She turned towards Daishou, her bright smile illuminating the entire room, washing all of his worries away. “Is that why you asked me what I was craving for dinner tonight? Are these homemade?”

Daishou rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah…” 

_They just weren’t made by me_ , Daishou thought to himself, the guilt welling up inside him. 

Mika wrapped her arms around Daishou. “Thank you, Suguru. You’re so sweet.”

Daishou leaned into Mika’s embrace. “Of course, I would do anything for you.” And that was the truth. 

As Daishou held Mika, his eyes landed on the door to the pantry. Unease began to take hold of him. The pantry of their apartment was small; Daishou didn’t know how much longer Kuroo and Akaashi would last in there. It was time to make his move. 

Daishou pulled away from Mika. “Hey, you just got home, right? Why don’t you go wash up in the bathroom before we eat?” 

“It’s fine, I can just use the sink here in the kitchen,” Mika said, making her way there as she spoke.

“No!” Daishou exclaimed. “You can’t!”

Mika raised an eyebrow at him. “And why not?”

“B-Because there’s no soap!” Daishou said, blurting out the first thing that came to his mind. “It’s better to use the bathroom instead!”

“Okay…” Mika said, giving him a weird look. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting kinda weird.”

Daishou began to play with the edge of his shirt. “Really? What makes you say—”

_Achoo!_

Mika pressed her lips together. “What was that?”

_Fuck my life_ , Daishou thought. He plastered on a fake smile to hide his anxiety. “What was what—”

_Achoo!_

“That!” she exclaimed. 

“Uh… I, um, sneezed!”

“While talking?”

Daishou rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes?”

Mika eyed him suspiciously. “Is that a question?”

“No?”

Mika’s whole face turned into a scowl. “Suguru, what’s going on? I’ve had a long day, I don’t have time to—”

_Click!_

Suddenly, the door to the pantry swung wide open, causing Kuroo and Akaashi to come tumbling out from within. 

“I’m sorry Daishou,” Kuroo said, holding Akaashi’s shoulders. “Akaashi was having trouble breathing in there. I didn’t know how much longer he would last in that tiny space.”

Daishou turned to see Akaashi clutching his chest, savoring every breath he took from outside the pantry. Now that Akaashi was not in such an enclosed space anymore, it looked like he would be fine, but… 

Mika’s expression now was one of shock and horror. “Suguru! What’s going on?! Why were they hiding in our pantry just now?!”

Deeply exhaling, he closed his eyes before he spoke. “I can explain…”

Mika crossed her arms. “Please do.” 

From there, Daishou revealed the entire situation to her: his failures in the kitchen from trying to cook beef bowls and grilled salmon onigiri a couple hours prior, calling Kuroo on the phone as a desperate plea for help, Kuroo bringing Akaashi over to the apartment to prepare the plates of food for him, and Kuroo and Akaashi hiding in the pantry of their apartment to make it look like Daishou made all the dishes instead. 

“You should’ve seen him when we came over,” Kuroo cut in. “Daishou’s face was all wrinkly because he was so worried about trying to make you happy. He’s going to look like an old man when he’s in his thirties.”

Akaashi nodded. “This is true. Daishou-san kept checking up on me in the kitchen to make sure everything went smoothly for your meal.”

“You… did this all for me?” Mika asked Daishou.

Daishou began to fidget with his fingers. “Well, it’s just that we’ve been eating takeout so much and you’ve been talking about how you would like to eat at home more, so I—” 

Mika shook her head, grabbing Daishou by the arm. “Come on,” she said, leading Daishou towards the exit door of their apartment. “Let’s go get some pizza.”

A confused expression made its way on Daishou’s face. “I thought you were craving beef bowls and grilled salmon onigiri?”

“Yeah, I was,” Mika said, shifting her feet. “But, I don’t want that right now. The next time I eat a beef bowl and grilled salmon onigiri, I want it to be because you made them homemade for me.” 

Daishou’s eyes widened. “Mika-chan…”

Mika lifted herself up on the tips of her toes to give Daishou a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go get some pizza, Suguru.”

“Yes, of course,” Daishou said, smiling. As they made their way to exit the apartment, Daishou turned behind him to look at Kuroo and Akaashi. “The key is under the mat, make sure to lock the apartment when you leave. Don’t make a mess or I’ll kill you, Kuroo.”

“Why just me?” Kuroo said, rolling his eyes. He let out a laugh before smirking at Daishou. “Have fun with Mika-chan, alright?”

“Thanks Kuroo,” Daishou said, and somehow that statement was genuine. He turned his head towards Akaashi and nodded. “Thank you as well, Akaashi.”

Akaashi nodded back. Kuroo shot a finger gun at him. Daishou clutched his chest, pretending to be wounded from Kuroo’s blow. 

Mika’s voice rang in the hallway. “Suguru! Are you coming?”

“Coming Mika-chan!” Daishou called out, shutting the door to their apartment behind him. 

* * *

Kuroo and Akaashi were left inside as Daishou and Mika went on their date. Kuroo eyed the plates of food that Akaashi made. “Wanna eat?”

Akaashi rubbed his glasses. “Sure,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t want all this food to go to waste.”

Kuroo brought over the food Akaashi made from the kitchen and set it down on Daishou’s coffee table. “Thank you,” Akaashi said. He flopped down onto the couch, exhausted from preparing the meal. His eyes drifted to a remote on the coffee table, presumably for the TV right in front of them. Akaashi picked up the remote and pressed the power button, causing the TV to come to life. He clicked a few more buttons to do some channel surfing. “Hey, I heard that they are replaying the Jackals-Raijin match tonight. Do you want to watch?”

“Oh _that_ match?!” Kuroo exclaimed. “I was on the edge of my seat the whole time while watching it for the first time. Let’s see it!”

Akaashi smiled as he flipped the channel to the match. “It’s really funny seeing Bokuto-san and Washio-san on different sides of the net.”

“Not only that, but seeing Miya Atsumu and Suna from Inarizaki _plus_ Sakusa and Komori from Itachiyama going head-to-head as well,” Kuroo pointed out, picking up one of Akaashi’s handcrafted onigiri. “Man, this match gives me chills.”

Akaashi’s eyes began to sparkle as Bokuto’s figure came onto the TV screen, doing his usual acrobatic routine before the match. Once he finished his last cartwheel, Bokuto pointed to the camera and yelled, “Bokuto Beam!”

Akaashi smiled once more. “Yeah, volleyball is amazing.”

* * *

Daishou and Mika ended up going to a small hole-in-the-wall pizza parlor for dinner. Apparently, Mika’s friends had been recommending for her to go to this pizza parlor for weeks, so the two of them went to go check it out. They were able to get there on foot, giving them the ability to go people watching and stare at the towering skyscrapers in the city that never sleeps. 

The owners of the pizza parlor were extremely nice, giving them extra condiments and drinks in addition to the pizza slices that were bigger than their faces. Even though Akaashi’s cooking skills were making him crave beef bowls and onigiri, Daishou gulped down the pizza in a couple bites. It was easily one of the best slices of pizza that Daishou ever had. Maybe he would take Kuroo and Akaashi there one day as a thank you. But, then that would mean he would have to see Kuroo again, so maybe sometime later in the far, far future. 

After they were done eating, Daishou took Mika down the line of shops on the same street as the pizza parlor. Mika was obsessed with this one pink strawberry dress in the display window of a high end dress shop. If he had the money, Daishou would’ve bought it for her. He didn’t know much about fashion, but Daishou knew that Mika would’ve looked absolutely beautiful in that dress. 

Later on, in another clothing store just down the street, Mika was helping Daishou pick out some new clothes. She held up this one black and red sweatshirt with a phrase on the front that read, “We Are Blood.” Daishou couldn’t place his finger on it, but for some reason the sweatshirt ticked him off, so he didn’t end up buying it. 

“Aww, I thought it would’ve looked good on you,” Mika said as they walked out of the clothing store. 

Daishou shook his head. “I doubt it. The black and red just would clash with my skin tone.”

Mika broke out into a laugh. “Okay, sure. Whatever you say,” she said, turning her head towards the next shop in line. “Oh! A bookstore! Too bad I never have any time to read for fun anymore.”

“Yeah,” Daishou said, tilting his head back. “Nursing school for you has been crazy lately, hasn’t it?”

Mika nodded in response. “All I ever do is study nowadays. I just can’t wait until exams are over. Hopefully, I can read more in the future.”

As they were about to walk away, a certain book in the display case of the bookstore caught Daishou’s eye. He tugged on Mika’s sleeve.

She tilted her head at him. “Huh? What’s wrong, Suguru?”

“Oh sorry, it’s nothing,” Daishou said, stealing another glance at the bookstore. “I was just wondering… can we go into that shop over there?”

“The bookstore?” Mika asked. “I didn’t know you read books in your free time.”

“I usually don’t, but someone recommended something to me recently. I thought I should go and check it out.”

“It’s alright with me,” she said. “Let’s go in.”

Daishou smiled. “Thank you, Mika-chan.” He planted a kiss on her cheek before they headed inside the bookstore.

An employee was ready to greet him as he walked inside. “Hello, welcome! Is there anything I can help you find?”

“Oh! Yeah,” Daishou said. He tried to recall the name of the book he was told to get. “Could you help me find the latest issue of _Zombish_ for me?”

* * *

**A Couple Weeks Later**

_New Instagram Post!_

[daishou_suguru]: Homemade beef bowls and grilled salmon onigiri with Mika-chan! Do you approve @akaashi.keiji? 

[akaashi.keiji]: They look really good, Daishou-san.

[kurootetsuro]: Dang, these actually look edible! 

[yamika]: @kurootetsuro They were really delicious!

[takachiho.yoshi]: Dang, how did you improve that much in such a short amount of time?!

[hirooooo]: @takachiho.yoshi Seriously…

[kaz_numai]: @hirooooo Do you still have the photo of his first attempt from a couple weeks ago?

[hirooooo]: @kaz_numai I’m posting on my story right now

[daishou_suguru]: @hirooooo Please don’t. 

[isumisakishima]: @daishou_suguru Come on, you already have a girlfriend, just let us have this!

[daishou_suguru]: @isumisakishima I hate you guys.

[kaz_numai]: @daishou_suguru No, you don’t.

[daishou_suguru]: @kaz_numai Yeah… You’re right, I don’t. 


End file.
